Hazy Recollection
by Ishie
Summary: *Complete* Ron awakens from a tantalizing dream and can't remember who he was dreaming about. Warning: Contains OotP spoilers.


**Disclaimer: **Not mine. Making no money. Poor college student. Overly active imagination.

====== 

Ron drifted in the hazy world between sleeping and wakefulness. He felt a ribbon of sunlight warm across his legs. Keeping his eyes firmly shut, he rolled to his side and curled up, desperately trying to hold onto the fading images of his dream. He could feel the day creeping into his brain, driving back the indistinct memories. 

He remembered standing in a warm room, thick with humidity. Ron squeezed his eyes more tightly closed as he struggled to see details. There was a lot of muted light and flickering shadows and something else … a presence … another person. He concentrated harder as he turned to see who it was. It seemed the closer he came, the farther out of his reach the figure danced. He reached out to grab whoever it was, to pull them back. 

Just as Ron's fingers brushed against cloth, his alarm clock blared. "GET YOUR LAZY ARSE OUT OF BED!"

The image vanished as his eyes snapped open. He reached out to the bedside table to grab his wand and rolled onto his stomach.

With a gasp, he quickly rolled onto his back and sat up, pulling his comforter into his lap as he did so. He reached over and accidentally knocked the alarm to the floor with a shaky hand. 

"OY, LAZY BONES! HAVING A BIT OF A LIE IN, ARE WE? YOU HAD BETTER--" The voice stopped in mid-rant as Ron tapped the clock with his wand and set both back on the bedside table. He slumped back against the headboard and looked over at Dean and Seamus.

"Sorry, had a late night," he apologized with a shrug.

Seamus sniggered. "Oh, I'll bet you did," he leered at Ron, waggling his eyebrows. "Late night _prefect_ meeting?"

Ron pulled his pillow from behind his back and lobbed it at Seamus. Dean smirked and turned away to tie his shoes. Seamus caught the pillow and sent it sailing back, laughing all the while. Ron could feel his ears burning. He snatched the pillow out of the air and held it in his lap and glared at his two roommates but made no move to get out of bed until they left the room.

As soon as Dean had shut the door behind him, Ron leaped out of bed, scooped up his robe off the floor and raced for the showers. It was late enough in the morning that the room was deserted. Ron quickly undressed and entered the first stall. As soon as he was under the showerhead, warm water started flowing. He reached for the handle set in the wall and jerked it all the way to cold.

Sagging against the wall, Ron shivered as the cold water ran down his body. He had been so close to finding out who the shadowy person in his dream had been. It had been a girl, he knew that much. He remembered a tantalizing scent, like the honeyed mead Madam Rosmerta served in the Three Broomsticks. 

Ron showered quickly then returned to his room to change into clean robes. He threw on his rucksack, shoved his wand into his pocket and charged down the staircase. At the foot of the stairs, he collided with someone. Dropping his bag, he reached out to steady the other person, who was teetering backward. 

"All right, Ginny?"

"Watch where you're going, you great lummox! And let go of me!" Ginny shot back.

Ron picked up his rucksack and narrowed his eyes at her. "What's with you then?"

"Nothing at all. I rather like getting knocked around by my overprotective prat of a brother!" She sighed heavily and took a step back. "Sorry. I don't want to pick a fight. Hermione sent me up to get you so you wouldn't be late to Potions."

"I'm moving as fast as I can." Ron started toward the portrait hole. "Why didn't Hermione come up?"

Ginny hurried after him. "She didn't want to be late. I'm on my way to Astronomy so I said I'd get you." She stopped speaking for a moment then continued in a rush, "I don't suppose you could give me a pass, could you? I'm completely knackered. I spent all night working on an essay for Professor Flitwick…."

Ron shook his head. "Sorry, Ginny, McGonagall would pitch a fit. Why don't you just use a Puking Pastille? Not that I'm condoning such a thing, of course."

"I don't much fancy getting sick all over myself. That's all right; I've History of Magic after. I can sleep there."

As Ron and Ginny clambered through the portrait hole, alarms sounded. Mrs. Weasley had given a watch to each of them at Christmas. Harry, Hermione and the twins had them also. They were similar in design to the clock at the Burrow, but instead of giving their location, the watches gave them warnings in Molly Weasley's voice when they were about to be late. (The twins had modified their watches to create prototypes for their Aggravating Alarm Clocks, adding quite a few insults and copious amounts of swearing.)

"Only two minutes! Go, Ron, I'll talk to you at lunch!" Ginny sped off down the corridor in the direction of the Astronomy Tower.

Ron quickly turned on his heel and raced for the dungeons. As he ran, he tried to think of an excuse Snape would accept but kept coming up blank. 

_Snape'll have my head for this_, he mused. _What a day this is going to be_.

~

By lunchtime, Ron's stomach felt so empty he was sure he could eat an entire platter of Hagrid's stoat sandwiches. Luckily, he made it to the Great Hall in plenty of time to gorge himself on shepherd's pie and an extra large serving of custard. 

Belly pleasantly bloated, he leaned back, patted his torso and sighed. Across the table, Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to speak to Michael Corner as he passed by. Ron lowered his eyelids and watched her wave her hands in the air as she explained something. 

Ron wasn't exactly sure what she was talking about; it had something to do with Runes and a badger, as far as he could tell. Whatever it was, Michael nodded a few times then pulled out a quill to scribble something on a piece of parchment. He thanked Hermione and joined his housemates at table. 

Hermione turned back to her plate and picked up her goblet. When she was done drinking, she lowered the goblet and gave Ron a bright smile. He wasn't sure why she was smiling at him, so he just grinned back. His eyes widened as she coloured slightly and smacked the goblet back onto the table, causing a few drops of water to pool around the base of the goblet. As he watched, she picked up her fork and fiddled with the remains of her lunch, not meeting his eyes.

He opened his mouth to speak to her, but as he did, he realized she was already talking to him.

"… to Hogsmeade this weekend?" Hermione had finally pulled her attention from her mangled meal but fixed her gaze somewhere over Ron's left shoulder. He resisted the urge to look behind him and kept his eyes trained on her face.

"Pardon? I missed the first part, I think," he said.

"I was only asking if you were going into Hogsmeade this weekend," Hermione replied, still staring over his shoulder.

"Er, I don't know. I need to work on that Potions research, so I was just going to ask Ginny to pick me up something from Honeydukes." Ron spoke slowly, confused as to why Hermione was asking him about his weekend plans. And wondering what she found so fascinating at the Ravenclaw table. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "Why? Are you going?"

"Oh! I, uh, I asked Harry to meet me at lunch to talk about something. But, um - I just thought that maybe, that is, I wondered -" Hermione took a deep breath and finally looked him in the eye. "I thought you might be going around with Luna."

"Luna? Why would I go to Hogsmeade with Luna?" Ron was truly baffled now. 

"No reason!" Hermione said briskly. Her gaze skittered away from his, toward the head table, and she rose from her seat. "There's Professor McGonagall now! I have to ask her if she can recommend any more books about Transfiguration theory. See you at break!"

Ron watched her go with a puzzled expression on his face. He silently repeated their conversation, trying to figure out why she was acting so strangely.

_She's meeting Harry for lunch_, he thought._ So why was she asking if I had plans? And why ask about Luna, unless …._

_Oh!_

Ron smiled to himself as he caught a wisp of Hermione's scent. It was the perfume he had given her at Christmas. 

The perfume that smelled vaguely like Madam Rosmerta's honeyed mead.


End file.
